


that’s just the way you make me feel

by HiddenEye



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Age Difference, Aged-Up Character(s), Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Shiro (Voltron), Disaster gay Shiro, Hair-pulling, M/M, Pining Shiro (Voltron), Post-Season/Series 03, Size Difference, Size Kink, Time Travel, ass eating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-17 07:17:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14827853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HiddenEye/pseuds/HiddenEye
Summary: “Dude,” Hunk deadpanned, the second one to break the pregnant silence as they stared at each other. The way his eyebrows disappeared into his hairline showed he was actually handling this situation remarkably well, considering his history by freaking out at first sight. “Did you just gettallerafter getting hit by a cannon beam?”





	that’s just the way you make me feel

**Author's Note:**

> I started this after s3 was aired, and it took me quite a while to get around to finish it after going through some health issues. Anyway, I really, REALLY like the idea of older Keith and current age Shiro, and also the size difference that would surely come with it. Plus, Shiro would love seeing older Keith with a cool scar, huh?
> 
> I hope you enjoy this!
> 
> Title from Janelle Monáe’s Make Me Feel.

“You have got to be kidding me.” Lance blurted out.

The sentence itself had the right to be said as shocked as such, because while most would consider the thought of seeing one’s teammate after being hit by a blast of neon light to be fully relieved, the possibilities of anything surreal didn't occur until the adrenaline would subside into a hum that stuck by the back of your mind.

But, the starking changes of what stood in front of them in a form of someone _older_ than the Black Lion’s current pilot — his own surprise a blatant show as Shiro whipped his eyes over them — made him realised that he may have to reconsider his denial in having a crush.

Well, denial may be a strong word to apply on the type of situation he was currently in by wanting to confess his feelings to someone he liked. The intent was there, see, but the courage to actually look into those striking eyes head on without stuttering and breaking a bead of sweat was difficult.

To which, this person happened to be his teammate, no less — in addition of who and will always be the most trusted person he held in his mending heart, and he’d be damned if someone dared to get in the way of it.

“Dude,” Hunk deadpanned, the second one to break the pregnant silence as they stared at each other. The way his eyebrows disappeared into his hairline showed he was actually handling this situation remarkably well, considering his history by freaking out at first sight. “Did you just get _taller_ after getting hit by a cannon beam?”

After the blast, the Black Lion went out of commission that made all of them into a frenzy of shouting and trying to avoid more attacks from the fleet of scavengers they had been fighting with. Shiro managed to scream himself hoarse calling out for Keith from his place in the castle, whose comms had been filled with static instead of a reassuring reply when needed to be. It wasn't helping the lion was as unresponsive as its paladin from where it floated aimlessly in the middle of the impromptu battle.

They had retreated with the Black Lion in tow, the castleship going into hyperdrive the moment all of them were safe inside while Shiro was already running towards him.

And now, from where he dragged his eyes up and down the man from head to toe, Shiro deduced that yes, Keith had not only gotten taller in the span of two vargas, but he was even sprouting a single streak of grey hair on each side of his temple while the rest of his hair was tied into a low ponytail. There was a scar as well — twice the length of his own — teared down the lid of his right eye; eyeball shrunk, iris almost as white as their armour.

His shoulders filled more into his civilian clothes, broader, while he stood rigidly in the presence of his teammates with his knife in hand. A whole foot taller than last time he had been in the castle.

There were even little wrinkles at the corner of his eyes, and Shiro felt his heart flipped at how _perfect_ they accommodated with the shape of his oval face.

Cringing made the hairs of his own nape crinkle from his own blatant ogling, reminding himself that teetering like a schoolgirl with the way Keith was currently standing over him, tall enough that his eye-level was just skimming over Shiro's head, was just plain creepy.

He reigned in what was left of his scattering thoughts into a fist, evening the thudding beat of his heart by taking quiet breaths as he hoped none of them realised his desperate efforts to appear completely calm.

It was sad. It was also seeing his pathetic self pining after a man he was too afraid to lose.

The shock lessened as Keith took a hard look on each of them, his gaze holding the same type of distrust whenever they were faced with pressing matters, or complete strangers. Shiro felt himself holding his breath when he lingered on him a second longer, before Keith let out a sigh that was far too resigned to be annoyed. “This is why I never volunteered being the guinea pig.”

“Were you _experimented?_ ” Pidge asked, incredulous. And the outburst seemed to snap everyone out of their haze when they shut their gaping mouths with a click.

“Somewhat, by you.” Keith grunted, thumb rubbing against the hilt of his Marmora knife. He swept his gaze over them again, where his nose gave a single twitch, and then he was already walking away with a shake of his head while sheathing in his weapon. “Sorry, but I'm way too old to be going through this again.”

“ _Again?_ ” Lance called out at his retreating back, where he shot forward to follow their teammate walking down the long hallways of the castle. “What do you mean again? Just how many times did Pidge used you as a lab rat?”

“And why would _I_ experiment on you?” Pidge had to pick up her pace to match the long strides both of them did, while both Shiro and Hunk shared a wide look before quickly following behind. “What was I doing? What did whatever it was I built do? Why do you even look like you're the same age as my _dad—“_

“It’s because I am,” Keith snapped, turning around the corner to make his way towards the bridge. “Or, almost as old as him. I think. It's been awhile since I cared about my age.”

“And how long _is_ a while?” Shiro asked, catching the way Keith glanced back at him before he looked forward again, shrugging.

“Longer than it should.”

Hunk made a small noise of realisation. “You're from the _future._ ”

The doors slid open as he got nearer, and Shiro was able to see Allura and Coran by the control panel, their faces tight with worry while they spoke hurriedly in Altean, words lost in translation from how hushed their words mingled together. They lifted their heads in unison the moment the paladins walked inside, and froze at the sight of Keith making a beeline towards them.

Shiro could almost see their thoughts short-circuiting at how this Keith looked, and the heavy _same_ echoing against the walls of his mind was more spontaneous rather than deliberate.

Allura was the first one to shake herself out of her shock. “Keith—?”

“Allura,” he began, cutting the chase entirely as he stood near her, where she had to tilt her head slightly to look at him in the eye. “Can the teleduv go through time?”

“It can make wormholes, but I'm not sure about time travelling,” she said, still eyeing him rather warily. But, there was no doubt about the curiosity in her look, picking him apart with darting scrutiny. “And as much as Galra genes are concerned, they don’t usually catch up on you after a night.”

He gave a wry smile. “It took me three years since I got here to shoot up this high. I maintained until now.”

“Oh my god.” Hunk mumbled.

Shiro couldn’t help but agree.

“The only good thing is Kolivan still respects me even if I'm still a teenager in his eyes,” Keith continued, his tone dropping into something more dry. “I don't know, my bones sometimes says otherwise.”

“At least, you earned your place in the Blade.” She commented, eyeing the kept dagger near his hip.

“With a few bumps on the road.” He gave Shiro a side look.

If this Keith was from the future, there was a possibility that _their_ Keith was in the same situation where _he_ had to face their older selves. Given how if it were to be true, Shiro trusted they would help Keith in getting back to his own place and time, switching back with the man who now stood with them.

His teammates’ reactions would be amusing and Shiro would love to snap a picture for laughter's sake. If, of course, he wasn't too busy trying to make sure his eyes remained strictly on Keith's face, and not wandering to areas that would make his fingers twitch from what crumbling self-control was left the moment Keith walked in with an entirely new appearance.

This, he realised, was what mental and physical testament was about.

“You've gotten a lot taller than I remember, Number Four, or should I say,” Coran slipped beside Keith to compare their heights with obvious delight; eyes squinting as his gaze flickered from the top of Keith's head to the point of his boots with a grin apparent. “Number One. Since you're even taller than Shiro here.”

“Sorry, but I think I'm done in replacing Shiro with his titles.”

The remark, while spoken with light intent, didn't match the dull bitterness in his eyes, hinting at Shiro’s second disappearance hadn't sat well enough to bring fond memories for them to reminiscent over. This was considering the years they had yet to experience, contrary to their now older friend, who somehow jumped back to their timeline through the Black Lion.

And while the faint smirk was another shield to prevent his teammates from seeing what Keith truly felt, all those years of their close camaraderie gave Shiro the ability to know when he was upset — and from this moment, where it appeared a lot have passed from this until Keith's timeline, he still made no attempt to forgive himself at the kind of crime he thought he did.

If Shiro could have a talk with Black about paladin hopping, the possibility to reduce a migraine and heartache would skyrocketed within the next second.

“You still haven't answered my question,” Pidge reminded him, crossing her arms over her chest. “What did I do to bring you to our world?”

Allura furrowed her brows. “What _you_ did?”

“The reason Keith's here was because it had something to do with an experiment Pidge was working on. Or rather, the Pidge from the future.” Shiro tried not to shift when Keith brought his gaze onto him. “To which you haven't told us the full story yet, by the way.”

He didn't dare move while Keith’s gaze remained on him; slightly unfocused, thoughts elsewhere as he contemplated something on his mind. “How long has it been since you came back?”

His question took them by surprise, clearly not expecting that kind of advancement — but Shiro quickly shook it off, hiding the first signs of anxiety prickling under his skin as he met Keith's patient look. “About a couple of months.”

Immediately those purple eyes narrowed, causing Shiro's worry to sharpen. But Keith quickly wiped his dissatisfaction with something more neutral, as if nothing happened. “Black wasn't in the mood to recuperate for the last couple of days,” he spoke, words chosen carefully. “So, we figured maintenance would do the trick, and Pidge had been working on Black for the whole night until she thought it was okay for me to see her again.

“I got in, didn't even have the chance to sit down, when suddenly Black was glowing,” he frowned then, still miffed with what Shiro suspected had been a rocky transportation. “I thought we were flying off, but the controls did nothing when I tried taking over. When everything stopped, I walked out to all of you running towards me.”

“Yeah, because you were hit with a _sonic beam_.” Lance put his hands onto his hips; his posture sagged under the propped weight, reminding Shiro of their retreated battle. “We seriously thought you were _dead_ because you didn't answer any of our calls.”

“I’m sorry to hear that but I — _he_ would go through things much worse later on.” Keith crossed his arms against his chest. “There’s no point in worrying about it now.”

“Jesus fuck.” Lance stared at him in disbelief, clearly insulted — and it wasn't helping exhaustion was making everything look like a burden to solve. “Your younger self would've been a floating electrocuted corpse in the middle of space and you don't _care?_ ”

The damaged eye looked even more unsettling to look at, especially at the steady look Keith gave them. “I'm here, aren’t I?”

The truth, while as obvious as the skin and flesh they wore, wasn't enough to deter them from the impact of the battle. It was one thing for them to be shot as a single unit; fighting together with what was worth, all while knowing that if they were going to go down, might as well as the team they were.

It was another for one of them to be snatched away the moment they made the mistake of blinking, lifted away with Death’s blackened claw.

“That’s not the stupid point.” Lance muttered, defeated as he rubbed his forehead with the heel of his palm.

“I know what you're getting at,” Keith assured him, a shadow of an apology passed his eyes. “But, trust me when I say that your Keith is safe. There's no need to worry about him for now, we just need to focus on getting him to this timeline. Something could happen if I stay here any longer than I should be, and we don't want that to pull us down.”

“Didn't Allura and Coran got stuck in a time loop?” Hunk questioned. “Maybe the teleduv _can_ go through time?”

“Possibly, but we can’t know for sure.” Allura’s reluctance didn’t go unnoticed by Shiro, and she had a valid reason for being skeptical after what she and Coran been through. “You came here with the Black Lion, maybe you could go back through the same way?”

Keith nodded, absentmindedly rubbing his nape. “I could try.”

Shiro watched how those fingers glide seemingly over his skin, and looked away before Keith could notice.

 

* * *

 

“You’re avoiding me.”

His muscles went into lock down at the sudden voice, where Shiro had his fingers hover on top of the water pouch for a split second too long. Mentally counting to three, he reached over and clasped it in his hand, feeling the chill of it seeping into his fingers. “I don’t think I am.”

He made himself look busy as he straightened up, poking the straw into its required hole while moving away from the fridge with eyes looking everywhere but at the man before him.

“You are,” there was some accusation in his tone, and Shiro took a sip to ignore it. “Been doing so ever since I got here hours ago.”

Shiro couldn’t run from this, not when Keith was blocking the doorway with a cross of his arms and a drilling look trained on Shiro that could almost break skin, as if daring him to make up an excuse for the drift he made between them.

Something shifted in Keith’s expression, subtle in a way that Shiro almost missed how hardened his realisation looked. “It’s the eye, isn’t it?”

“No,” Shiro retaliated quickly, a tad too sharp, and what water he drank rolled into a ball in his throat at the doubt Keith sported. “It’s not that.”

“If that’s not it, then what is it?”

The counter he was leaning on was what allowing Shiro to remain as upright as possible, and he had to make sure he wasn’t squeezing the water pouch in his hand or Keith was going to suspect more things he shouldn’t have.

For example, Shiro’s inability to keep his mind straight whenever they would be in the same room.

And he felt his heart threatened to jump out of his chest when Keith decided to walk in, letting the doors swish closed behind him as he sidestepped the kitchen island to get to Shiro.

And Shiro — Shiro could only watch as Keith merely stood over him as if he done it everyday in his life. It should be, Shiro thought quietly, and the change in his physical appearance where Keith loomed over him now was further proof how alien genetics did things to humans Shiro never thought it would. It was — fascinating, in a way. And from how those eyes remained on him only made everything all the more exciting.

“Shiro.”

Shiro had been too busy looking over Keith’s shoulder when he suddenly spoke. Snapping his eyes towards Keith’s, he saw how those violets were dripping with unconcealed amusement that reached out to those wrinkles scattered at the corner of his eyes. He didn’t bother hiding what he knew, and he was making sure his person of interest didn’t get left out as well.

Shiro felt his stomach lurched, shame flaring up his neck.

Keith saw how much this sudden change was forcing Shiro to have an iron grip on his will, and merely relaxed beside him with his hands holding onto the edge of the counter, almost as if they were having a nice chat about the weather.

“It _is_ because of me,” Keith continued simply, and he made the situation sound far too simple when Shiro felt like he wanted the ground to swallow him up. There was no mercy in this, not when Keith already had his hooks sunk deep into his bones back when they were still clean from the intergalactic touches of war. “I’m guessing you didn’t expect me to become like this?”

Shiro licked his dry lips, careful in letting his thumb graze fleetingly against the plastic in his hold as a way to collect himself. Everything felt hot under his clothes, and he cleared his clogged throat to preserve what was left of his dignity. “Not like this.”

“Oh?”

“You were shot,” Shiro told him evenly, finally looking him properly in those eyes. “The worst we could think of was you dying. If we’re lucky, we’ll be able to treat your wounds without using the pods.”

The casualty in death and how they were able to talk about it without feeling the weighing apprehension could be jarring for most people. The new Paladins hadn’t been in that deep end of war long enough to overcome the fear itself, and it wasn’t any soothing when the threat of it hung above their heads like a fruit ready to drop.

Maybe they never will, but Shiro tasted death by the tip of his tongue far too many times when he defended himself in the arena — he accepted the casualties and how he was only a piece the Galra kept behind doors until they were ready to use him again. He accepted that he could die at any given strike of weapon, at the hands of the Druids who know what they want; and so death was a deep-seated acceptance that buried itself into his conscious. To talk with someone who had, no doubt, more experience in dodging the matter was easier for him.

With the way Keith tipped his head to the side, Shiro wouldn’t be surprised if he knew about that too. “Never this.”

“You aging wasn’t part of the list, no,” there was a faint scar at the cut of his jaw, too old and fading but still struck out from under a lock of hair. “Hopefully, we’ll get you back to your time and have our Keith back here too.”

“Your Keith,” there was a tilt in his tone that caused a twinge in his chest, and Shiro brought the straw to his lips again. “Would be in good hands until we figure out why Black decided to slingshot me to this time.” A scowl grew when he tapped his fingers against the surface of the counter. “If this is a way for me to reminisce my older times, then I’m not interested.”

“Too soon?”

“No.” Keith hesitated, picking through his words again. “Too much happened here, and it needed more time to get it figured out.”

Setting aside his drink, Shiro searched his face. Keith never actually told him what was bothering him before despite Shiro’s offered hand, and it looked as if this Keith wasn’t interested in telling him the whole story either. “I didn’t — it’s not because of me, is it?”

“No,” Keith repeated, a fact; and he tucked himself in with an arm slung over his waist, as if he said more than he should. “None of that. It’s complicated, but I got over it.”

Diversion. Shiro let it slide because he wasn’t invited for any questions, but the restlessness still nagged in his heart. “Did you get it figured out?”

“With your help,” Keith smiled then, and it was soft and wielding all at once that Shiro felt the telltale whine of his yearning thrumming across his sternum. “It was all you.”

Words were hard to come out when Keith was like this; playful, eased — as if time mellowed down the embers that took residence inside him. Keith then flicked the tip of his platinum hair with his forefinger, and Shiro sucked in a sharp inhale when he followed the digit with a snap of his eyes, where it hung almost lifelessly just a few ways in front of his face.

Keith’s smile turned a bit more crooked at this. “You’re so young. It’s almost not fair.”

Shiro shifted his eyes to his hands, his fingers slotted against each other on their own while the tip of his ears burned. He wasn’t going to survive this, not when Keith was looking at him like that.

Embarrassed, that was what Shiro was. And the searing feeling enveloped him completely when Keith ran the back of his bare fingers against the apple of his cheek, just grazing over his skin for it to be almost there, but not quite.

He was being coddled, and the fire igniting under his skin would surely be noticed by touch alone.

“Twenty-five isn’t that young.” Shiro protested weakly, turning his head just right so that he could meet his eyes, letting those fingers bump into his skin again.

 _Greedy_ , his mind chastised.

“Much younger than being forty-five.” Shiro felt his breath stuttering in his windpipe when a warm palm cupped his jaw, tilting his face to where Keith left his smile behind with that sentence. He had that look again; smothered frustration intermingling with heavy guilt. “You shouldn’t even have to go through this.”

“You’re only nineteen here,” Shiro reminded him blithely, not daring himself to move an inch of his life when he was being raked over thoroughly. “None of us should be here in the first place, but here we are.”

“Here we are.” Keith echoed hollowly, and swiped a thumb against the corner of his lips. The fleeting touch was almost as enarmouring as the way a strand of hair fell from his ponytail, curling innocently by his cheek. Unfortunately, it took Shiro all of his control to not let his mouth move and kiss the finger softly.

Instead, Shiro stared at the scar on his brow. “We’re a mess, aren’t we?”

A short laugh escaped, and he was tempted to grab the wrist Keith withdrew when he slumped against the counter again, reaching for his water pouch. “It doesn’t get any easier.”

The warning bounced off his head as Shiro shamelessly let his eyes linger on how those lips took a drink, before flickering them up. “Did we go through it?”

Keith hummed, unperturbed. “Yeah, we did.”

 

* * *

 

Time passed more, and it was the end of the day where they were still at the Black Lion’s hangar, tinkering with every possible outcome and yet coming up empty.

Pidge rubbed her eyes with the heel of her palms, her speech intermingling with a groan when she said, “I don’t know why Black’s refusing to do anything. What did you even do to make her be like this?”

Lance and Hunk left after they checked up on them with a tray of snacks and drinks. Allura stayed for a little longer to lend some of her Altean energy to talk with the beast; but as sentient as the lions were, there was no answer after she tried a few more times. Sighing, she promptly apologised and left them to check on their next route.

“I didn’t do do anything,” Keith said through the comms. “I told you. She was like this before I even got here.”

“No, no. What I meant is what did you and Future Me did to make Black like this.” Pidge stabbed her keyboard with a finger, and a loud beeping sound came after that. “Or is it all just the lion? Being, you know, an absolute dick?”

“Ask her.” Keith responded, not agreeing with what Pidge said, but far from protecting the lion after what it did to him.

“I’m unqualified if Allura couldn’t even get a peep from her.”

They were tired, and when Shiro peered at the time from the corner of Pidge’s laptop, it was far too late to continue this anymore.

“I think we should get some rest,” he began, lifting his eyes when the mouth of the Black Lion opened to let Keith out, who was roughly pushing his bangs away from his forehead. “We could continue tomorrow, and see if she’s responding to you by then.”

“Right.” Keith stretched his arms above his head to get rid of the kinks when he walked by, and Shiro watched Pidge unplug her laptop from where he leaned against the table with his arms crossed, silently locking his jaw into place when she shoved the cords messily into her bag.

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye even as her hands moved to clean up the rest of her mess. He lifted an eyebrow, but she only answered with her own brows arched in inquiry when he didn’t look away.

“See you two later.”

Keith crossed over what remaining space of the hangar to the doors in long strides up until Shiro was able to hear them opening under his presence — the soft hiss that accompanied the strike of his footsteps bounced against the high walls of the Black Lion’s home, its echoes announcing the regality that wafted seamlessly in the air.

The prolonging squeak that came from the way Pidge leaned back in her chair was almost as deafening as how the doors shut closed. A smirk twitched at the corner of her mouth while she reached for one of the cookies Hunk made; chocolate chip, or as close as it could get. “You’re not gonna follow him?”

It took some self-restraint to not raise his shoulders to his ears. “Why would I do that?”

“Because you’ve been staring at him like a lost puppy,” crumbs rained on her chest when she took a bite, and one side of her cheek jutted out as she continued with a full mouth, “who looked like you need cuddles. Y’know, this Keith looked more huggable now that he’s taller and all meat up—“

“Pidge.” The last thing Shiro needed was her pointing out that he already had his hand in the jar; hardly guilty but the overbearing need to lie was still there.

She gave the crumbs an obstinate swipe. “I think he wouldn’t mind.”

“You wouldn’t know.”

She stared pointedly at him.

Using his thumb to run it down his cheek, Shiro pushed himself off the table. “Don’t sleep too late.”

“Don’t toss around thinking about it.” She shot back, and he grimaced as he let the doors shut closed behind him.

What he hadn’t expect was seeing Keith waiting for him from across the corridor.

Shiro could feel his heart skyrocketing up his throat when Keith brightened at the sight of him, a smile gracing his lips as he pushed himself off the wall. Again, the reminder of how Keith towered over him made Shiro blinked back once, twice— and he hoped he didn’t look as dazed as he felt when Keith took a step nearer. “You still sleep alone, right?”

Shiro tried to focus on the fact that he was being addressed, but from how his body was frozen like a deer in headlights made it ridiculously hard to comprehend what was being said. This caused him to blink again. “Um, I have— I have my own room?”

It came out as a question, and Shiro wanted to sink into the floor when Keith chuckled. “We all do. But, since your Keith’s only nineteen at this point of time, I’m guessing he still doesn’t have the guts to share a bed with you yet?”

A fuse short circuited at the side of his head, and Shiro was left gaping in befuddlement. “I— what?”

“It takes a while for it to happen, but it does in the end.” Keith had the audacity to shrug loosely. “But, why I’m waiting for you is if you’re still up for it.”

“That would imply that I did in the first place.” Shiro told him, his voice threatening to crack at the end. Like a sloppy teenager waking up in the morning. Of course.

“You are, you will.” Keith cocked his head to the side, his hands slipping into his pants pockets. “I’m fine if you don’t want to, but I thought I’d just offer anyway.”

 _You didn’t_. But, Shiro kept that to himself, because he was sure Keith would just laugh in agreement if he did. Even then, Keith had this look that made his older face soften around the little lines at his eyes, patiently waiting for Shiro’s answer.

It was immensely endearing and Shiro was having a war screaming between his head and heart.

“We won’t be doing anything,” Keith started, doubt trickling into his expression when Shiro stayed quiet for too long. “I just wanted to cuddle, if it’s alright—“

Something inside him snapped at the word _cuddle_ , and Shiro felt determination welled up into a red puff of angry ball, straightening his back into the proper posture of those days when Iverson almost caught him sneaking in some cocaine into his socks.

“Sure,” he heard himself say, causing Keith to stop talking. One corner of his mouth climbed up, and Shiro felt something akin to delight hollering against the shell of his ear. “I mean, um, yes. I’d like that, yeah.”

The stuttering didn’t seem to bother Keith as much as it made Shiro want to swallow his own fist, but it worked. Whatever babble pouring out of his mouth worked with what was left of God’s blessing for him, and now Shiro numbly watched the way Keith reached over and took his hand into his own, tugging him towards his room.

There was this detached alien feeling wiggling under his nape when the door opened to reveal his room. It was left the way it was when Shiro got out this morning, everything in place as it should be, but he couldn’t stop feeling as if his skin was going to fall off his flesh soon, with a rusted metal ruler on his tongue and a screech scratching his eardrums.

Shiro used his free hand to rub the feeling away from the back of his head, and then Keith was letting go of his hand before he turned around face him in the eye.

With the door sighing closed behind him, Shiro could only stare back with nebulas swirling in his chest, his movement stopping under the quiet study of Keith’s almost curious look.

It stole his breath, his heart — Shiro couldn’t help but like the attention he was getting from the man and how it affected him more than it should. It was free falling into the air and letting exhilaration bring him to the ground, to the stability he was promised, all while knowing Keith would be waiting for him down there as Shiro was waiting for him from the peak of the world.

When he felt fingers tracing the edge of his jaw, Shiro blinked back to where Keith stared at him with a small frown creasing his brow.

“Lost you there for a second,” he murmured. “You sure you’re alright?”

 _We don’t have to do this,_ was what he added silently, but Shiro raised his own hand rested on top of his, giving him a gentle squeeze. “I’m okay. Come on.”

It was he who pulled Keith deeper into the room, where Shiro gently nudged him to the bed while he gestured towards the bathroom with a cock of his head, and Keith waved him away as he began taking off his boots.

When Shiro lifted his eyes towards the way his reflection looked back at him above the sink, a couple of pink hues blotched on top of his cheeks.

“Ridiculous,” he muttered, ignoring it altogether by twisting the faucet and letting water run out of the nozzle, cupping his hand under it before he splashed his face.

The action didn’t wake him up from the dream he thought he was suspended in, but it made his blush cool down a bit as he brushed his teeth. He murmured some promises under his breath on how he wouldn’t make a fool of himself by, say, popping a boner in the middle of their cuddling session. But, the water _did_ clear his head for a whole minute before he opened the door to see Keith already spread out on the bed.

His jacket was already folded on top of his blanket, revealing his toned arms from where Keith wore a tank top and a couple of dog tags resting on his chest, the lowlights of his room catching the chains in a manner that made Shiro walked in to have a closer look.

Keith glanced to the side when he heard the shuffle of feet, and sat at the edge of the bed when Shiro stood at the side of it.

Keith gave him one last chance. “You sure you’re okay?”

Shiro nodded, feeling whatever strand of self-control he held on slipping away at the sight of Keith on his bed; the chain still caught his attention as it gleamed under the low lights, and Shiro trailed his eyes to how the dog tags rested right in the middle of his chest.

Keith, however, only smiled softly at him. “Okay.”

But Shiro leaned forward and pressed a kiss onto his lips, chaste and quick with a hand on his cheek, surprising Keith when a hitch of breath was sucked in through teeth.

When Shiro tried to gauge his expression, they were still breathing in the same air and he still had his hand cupped onto Keith’s cheek, carefully watching the way those lashes fluttered before they lifted to meet his gaze.

“I’m fully convinced now,” Keith teased.

Shiro hummed, unable to reply anything else than let the warmth in his chest expand and envelop his entire being with needy curls while he let his nose graze against Keith’s, brushing his thumb below his eye as he held the man’s face fully in both palms from where he was almost bending halfway.

Keith let his hands run up his thighs, long fingers brushing against his pelvis before they rest meaningfully onto his hips. “Is this why you’ve been avoiding me?”

“In a way,” tilting Keith’s face towards his direction, Shiro pressed a kiss onto his cheek. “Why do you ask?”

“Because in my time, you were helping out at one of the bases and I haven’t seen you for a couple of months.” Keith smiled, and there was a wicked glint in his teeth that made Shiro hold his breath. “Plus, I miss doing this with you.”

Those hands snapped down and gripped onto the back of his thighs, fingers squeezing tightly around the inner sides of his legs that made Shiro gasp before he was being pulled deeper into Keith’s spread ones. A knee was dropped around Keith and into the mattress, and Shiro found himself half straddling his lap with his fingers digging into the meat of his shoulders.

Keith traced the curve of his ass with purposeful strokes, and Shiro buried his face into the side of his head with a groan when Keith pinched his right cheek. “You had this look when I first came out of Black that made me realise why it was so familiar.” Keith nosed the underside of his jaw, urging Shiro to lift his face away from his hiding spot. “It’s the same look you have whenever you remember I’m bigger than you, once you think you’d get used to it. And, if I remember correctly, you like it when it’s used against you.”

Without waiting for a reply, Keith surged up to press a full blown kiss and plunged his tongue in between his lips to taste the roof of his mouth, dragging Shiro into bed who had his arms wrapped tightly around Keith’s neck while he let himself be manhandled around in his own room.

Keith was already throwing him around the mat a few weeks ago with the strength he used during their training. Shiro knew he was strong despite his leaner size, a perk from his Galra genes that had Shiro thanking the heavens for such a gift when he blinked up to the ceiling lights. But now, his older counterpart had an arm wrapped tightly around his waist and holding onto the leg Shiro hiked up against his hip, particularly lifting half of his body off the mattress as Keith bit into his bottom lip and Shiro thanking, again, whatever force was with him then.

It was spectacular, because Shiro knew what he liked and appreciated those times when Keith showed his ability to lift things twice his size. And now, he was bigger and stronger and Shiro had a hard time breathing properly when Keith swiped his tongue over his lips.

Shiro held on tightly, heaving out a breath when Keith detached himself from his mouth to trail a path of kisses down his neck, putting him down gently on the bed with his legs dropping from Keith’s waist. “Keith.”

“I’ve got you.” He pressed a feathering kiss behind the back of his ear that caused Shiro to suck in a shuddering breath, his head falling to the side as he exposed his neck to Keith more. “Let’s get this off, hm?”

Keith tugged onto the edge of his shirt, and Shiro didn’t waste time to lift his arms above his head as Keith peeled it off with ease, ducking down to mouth against his chest, before wrapping his lips around a nipple and gave it a suck.

Shiro jerked in surprise, a gust of wind escaping his mouth as his hands found themselves in Keith’s hair as searing warmth pulsed down his abdomen, latching on while Keith swirled his tongue around the nub while his fingers worked to pinch the other nipple to its full perkiness.

Keith gently bit into it, nudging it with his tongue again that had Shiro arching into his mouth more and his toes curling in his shoes. “Keith— please—“

He choked when Keith reached down to cup his hardened cock through his pants, giving him a squeeze that had Shiro stuttering in his grip, a soft moan escaping free.

Keith lifted his head, and Shiro was able to see how red his lips had gotten, wet with his own saliva. Strands of hair escaped from his ponytail, a doing Shiro had no regrets in committing as some of it framed the shape of his oval face.

“You know,” Keith used his thumb to run down his length, causing Shiro to push his hips into his hand more with another sigh breaking free. “It’s been a while since you look like this.”

“The view’s great from here too.” Shiro said with a grin.

Keith smirked back, abandoning his cock as he slid his hands up his sides, before reaching up to push Shiro’s wrists into the mattress as he hovered above him. “I meant about your hair.”

Shiro blinked, and would have felt his hair if he wasn’t held down. “My hair.”

Keith let out a hum, dragging the tip of his nose against his, and Shiro felt his breath tickling on his lips. “It’s shorter, for one, and—“

One of his hands dropped down to push the bleached hair away from his face, before Shiro felt the way Keith made his fingers tangle among the strands and simply held on.

Shiro swallowed around the ball in his throat, eyes wide.

Keith shrugged. “Less volume.”

“Shit.” Shiro breathed out. Keith grinned at that.

“I know.” Shiro groaned when Keith tugged slightly, voluntarily baring his neck to him. “But, we’ve managed before. I don’t see any problem with it.”

“Any problem with it,” Shiro echoed wanely. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m—“

He stopped when Keith kissed his cheek, his brow. Shiro blinked, and the heat he thought he gotten rid from his cheeks flared again.

Keith didn’t even hide the grin this time. “Shiro?”

“Yeah?”

“You okay?” Keith kissed his other cheek then, the left one, right above where the end of his scar laid. Shiro almost closed his eyes when the hand on his forehead smoothed out his ruffled hair, and instead blinked lazily when it settled beside his head.

“Better than I was a couple of months ago,” Maybe it was the wrong thing to say, and the stern way Keith tilted his head with his thumb under his jaw had Shiro held his breath when the gaze above him pinned him down.

”That’s good, isn’t it?” Keith traced the line of his jaw with the same digit. “Better than the snow and that shell of a carcass you hid in.”

Shiro stared back at him. “I didn’t—“

“You did, in the end. But a few years later,” the shadow on Keith’s face was back. “Not telling anyone eats you, Shiro. I knew something happened, but I didn’t want to pry because I know you’re uncomfortable with it.”

Shiro paid attention to the ceiling instead. “So, you knew. In this time.”

“I knew something was bothering you, but I didn’t know what.”

“Is going on missions with the Blade have anything to do with this?”

“I’m not avoiding you,” Shiro let his eyes flickered towards Keith again, who had his brows pulled down slightly. “I just got you back in this time after almost half a year of looking for you, I wouldn’t want to separate with you if I could but,” he stopped then, guilt growing in how he shifted above him, dog tags tinkling.

“You wanted to know more.”

Keith didn’t look away when Shiro ended his sentence. “I’m sorry.”

“You make it sound as if you abandoned me,” Shiro joked airily. “When it’s always the other way around. I understand what you wanted, Keith, you shouldn’t feel bad about that.” He did understand, but sometimes, when he couldn’t kid himself into the reassurance of thinking Keith wasn’t his foundation of peace and strength, Shiro had to bit down his tongue ever since he first watched Keith left the castle to hop into Kolivan’s ship.

Keith pursed his lips. “Stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“Insulting yourself,” Keith tapped the side of his head with a finger, getting his attention when Shiro wanted to avoid his look. “Making yourself look bad.”

“That’s not new.”

“For the years that is to come, no, it’s not.” Keith planted a brief kiss onto his lips, but Shiro raised more into it until he freed his hands to hold onto Keith’s shoulders, tugging him nearer. Keith let out a contented noise, before leaning back slightly until their noses bumped into each other, voice slightly breathless than before. “And, for the record, I won’t stop telling you how amazing of a person you are until we’re old and pruning.”

Shiro smiled crookedly. “Not much left of that on your part, huh?”

Keith laughed shortly, the mirth dimmed in his eyes. “I have all the time I need.”

Before Shiro could ask him about it, Keith kissed him again, slowly this time, taking his time in running his hands down his sides again, spreading them across the expense of his abdomen until Shiro arched himself into the touch more. His own hands drifted down until he found the edge of his tank top, and Keith helped him in getting it off without breaking apart.

“God,” Shiro whispered when he dragged his palms onto the wall of muscles and skin, liking how much this was making him high in the head when he let them sail across Keith’s chest, appreciating the wideness of them.

Keith was already busy tugging off his pants, boots; shoving them all away until they dropped to the edge of the bed while he trailed more kisses onto Shiro’s chest, his stomach, following his happy trail dipping down between his legs. Shiro held his breath when Keith nipped his hip, his own hands clutching onto his shoulders.

The single glance Keith shot him was enough for Shiro’s heart to jump to his throat before the man below him folded him in half.

Shiro choked at the sudden movement, hands scampering to hold onto the bed sheets as Keith pushed knees to his chest, dick hanging heavily and dripping precum onto his stomach. Keith already had his mouth onto his thighs, nipping and kissing his way down until his breath fanned over his hole.

When Keith paused, kneeled in front of him while exposing Shiro into display, the franticness that diminished earlier jumped up again.

Shiro swallowed around the ball in his throat when Keith traced a finger around his hole, not breaking eye contact. “Keith, please—“

And when Keith had his tongue on him with a single languishing moment, Shiro let out a harsh whine when the smooth muscle licked him senseless.

Keith fucked him with his tongue, pushing his tongue into and around him that had Shiro moaning into the ceiling while he held onto the sheets. Keith tugged him closer, more so until Shiro was scrambling when he was bent into himself more, his dick now against his chest and precum speckled onto him. Keith pushed his tongue into him again, and Shiro was an incoherent mess.

“Keith, Keith,” Shiro dug his nails into Keith’s knees, gasping. “Keith, baby, come on—“

He had been so preoccupied with how Keith had his tongue in him, he didn’t realised how the older man was already reaching for the bottle of lube he kept in the compartment above him. He didn’t notice how Keith was messy in squirting some on his fingers, he didn’t notice how Keith cursed against his skin when Shiro subconsciously angled his neck towards him, until Shiro was letting out a moan at how a cold finger slipped into his hole.

“Fuck, _Keith_ ,” Shiro wheezed when Keith moved the finger around with his tongue, a strong arm wrapped around one of his legs to hold him up properly. “I’m—“

Another finger joined in, and stars burst in front of his vision when they immediately hit his prostate, causing his jaw to slack at the sensation.

Keith climbed up to kiss him sloppily on the lips, tongue plunging into his mouth that immediately had Shiro opening for as he desperately kissed him back, the taste of him apparent as saliva trailed down his chin.

“Shiro,” Keith rasped, curling his fingers until Shiro cursed, a whine intermingled with the end of the word.

“ _Keith,_ ” Shiro felt the base of his spine getting sore from where half of his body was propped on Keith’s lap, but it was good. _So_ good. “I need you, c’mon.”

“Sweetheart, you’re not ready yet,” Keith kissed him again, swallowing the small groan when those fingers slid out and back in slowly.

“I am, I _am,_ ” Shiro blabbered against his lips, hands snapping up to hold Keith’s face. “Keith, please, I’m ready—“

Shiro let out a shout when a third finger slid in, where the digit stretched him more at the sudden intrusion before Shiro forced himself to accommodate it with the other two, a blessing in itself when the feeling felt more exquisite than the last. His heels dug into Keith's shoulder blades, head rolling back when Keith started to fuck him again.

“You’re not, trust me,” Keith kissed his nose when he twisted his wrist, and Shiro almost blacked out if it wasn’t for the purposeful pecks around his face. “You need to be prepped properly.”

“Christ, you can’t honestly be that big,” Shiro finally let out, voice husky. He blinked away the sweat from his eyes to watch the sheepish smile curling on Keith’s face, and licked his dry lips. “Oh.”

“I’m taking precaution here, Shiro.”

“Did you tore me before?”

Shiro choked when Keith plunged his fingers in again, a filthy noise rising from how lube and skin squelched together. “ _Fuck,_ okay, okay, I’m sorry.”

His desperate apology landed on deaf ears when Keith did it again, and again, until stars made an appearance in front of eyes once more and Shiro was holding onto the pillow behind his head, face hiding into his arm.

“Yeah, I did. You couldn’t walk properly for a couple of days after that,” Keith told him conversationally, and Shiro let out a small noise when Keith’s other hand trailed near his neglected cock. “Watching you trying to hold it together had been _fun_.”

“You’re a masochist.” Shiro gruffed out.

“Nope, I just like seeing you red from face to chest.”

Keith wrapped his fingers around his dick, making Shiro throw his head back at the oversensitivity as a garbled shout escaped through bitten lips. Keith stroked him, once, twice —it wasn’t long before Shiro came with another shout that sounded far too wheezy in his ears.

Come hit him in the chest and chin as Keith milked him out thoroughly, pressing kisses onto his cheeks and over his eyes while Shiro still scrambled for something to hold on, not being able to move in the position he was in and instead settled for tangling his fingers into Keith’s hair.

He gave a few weak thrusts into Keith’s palm, breathing heavily as the last of it made him slump against Keith while those wicked fingers twisted and tugged onto his cock.

Keith pressed a lingering kiss onto the side of his head, still holding onto Shiro while his lips hovered over his ear. “We’re not done yet.”

“Fuck,” Shiro whispered back involuntarily, causing Keith to laugh as he shifted to readjust their position, where he was already unbuttoning his pants. “Finally.”

“Punk,” Keith said fondly, pushing down his pants.

“Jerk,” Shiro murmured as he flexed his arms still cushioned underneath his pillow, letting out a harsh exhale when Keith pushed his cock into his already lose hole.

His own dick was beginning to harden again when Keith shallowly started to thrust into him, looking up from where he had been admiring the way the head of his cock disappeared into Shiro to check up on him. “You okay?”

“Swell,” Shiro replied through gritted teeth. He rocked himself onto Keith, causing both of them to groan when he slipped down on his cock more.

Keith thrusted to fully sheath himself into him until Shiro brought down his arms to drag them down Keith’s chest —anything to distract himself from this, from how pressure burn past his abdomen and chest, his face, right into his brain and lighting every sensory— his fingers catching onto his nipples, eliciting a groan from the man above him.

Shiro gasped when Keith filled him to the hilt with another hard thrust, hands still moving on their own record by then when they gripped his arms as Shiro inhaled sharply for breath.

Keith grunted, mouthing against his temple as he started moving his hips, one of his hands tangled in his forelock again. “Yeah, baby, that’s it.”

Shiro tilted his head under the weight and kissed him; he kissed him through the way Keith increased his pace and tugged more onto his hair to the point of pain, kissed him when the slap of their flesh rang throughout the bedroom and the hitched pitch of his breath wafted in between them. Shiro kissed him with Keith’s face in between his palms, firm and tender at the same time.

Shiro kissed him as he came again, a cry escaping his lips, and Keith was panting into his ear as he continued to thrust into him again, and again.

Until the older man tensed, and Shiro let his head slump to the side when Keith let out a groan against his jaw as he came inside him.

It took some time before the ringing in his ears disappeared, and Shiro may have blanked out for a while before he felt warm lips brush against his forehead, fluttering with petal-like touches under his lashes, over the scar of his nose.

And when he turned towards the touches, Keith was looking at him with a soft smile curled up the corner of his mouth, his hair out from its ponytail. “Hey, sweetheart.”

Immediately, Shiro felt his initial embarrassment smacked him in the face when he realised how Keith wasn’t in his shirt, to noticing the blanket pulled up to their waists, and how something damp was left as a trail in between his thighs.

Reaching up to rub his eye with the heel of his palm, Shiro let out a whistle of a breath through his teeth. “Damn.”

“Not what you expected?” Keith asked, tone honeyed, pulling Shiro’s hand away from his face.

Shiro didn’t answer as he tried to keep down his hysterics under check, staring unblinkingly into Keith’s sole purple eye.

“You’re staring again, Shiro.”

“Everything you do amazes me.” He said instead, bluntly.

Keith blinked, before letting out a wry smile. “You liked it?”

“Mmhmm.”

“You’re welcome then.” He paused, considering something. “I’m thinking of showering, wanna join me?”

Shiro smirked. “Hell yeah.”

 

* * *

 

When Shiro came out for breakfast the next morning, Pidge was on the counter with her laptop, a spoon in her mouth with a bowl of food goo on her side.

She didn’t even looked up when she said, in a sing-song voice, “What did I say?”

Shiro reached for the pot of hot drink, hoping it was coffee. “No.”

“Yeah, well, the mice say otherwise.”

He winced, pouring the sludge into his mug. “They really need to keep it to themselves.”

“Or we really need to install some soundproof walls after this,” Pidge pulled out the spoon, looking up to make a face at him. “Blegh, Shiro. Honestly.”

“Shush.”


End file.
